Then Hariśikha said;—On that occasion when I was seized by my enemy, some divinity saved me and deposited me in Ujjayiní. There I was so unhappy that I conceived the design of abandoning the body; so at nightfall I went into the cemetery and proceeded to construct a pyre with the logs there. I lighted it and began to worship the fire, and while I was thus engaged, a prince of the demons, named Tálajangha, came up to me, and said to me, “Why do you enter the fire? Your master is alive, and you shall be united with him, now that he has obtained the supernatural powers he desired.” With these words, the demon, though naturally cruel, lovingly dissuaded me from death; even some stones melt when fate is propitious. Then I went and remained for a long time performing asceticism in front of the god; and some divinity has to-day brought me to your side, my liege.
Thus Hariśikha told his tale, and the others in their turn told theirs, and then, at the suggestion of Amitagati, king Naraváhanadatta incited the venerable Dhanavatí, adored by the Vidyádharas, to bestow all the sciences on those ministers of his also. Then all his ministers also became Vidyádharas; and Dhanavatí said, “Now conquer your enemies;” so on a fortunate day the hero gave orders that the imperial troops should march out towards the city of Gaurímuṇḍa, called Govindakúṭa.
Then the army of the Vidyádharas mounted up into the sky, obscuring the sun, looking like a rising of Ráhu out of due time chilling to the foe. And Naraváhanadatta himself ascended the pericarp of the lotus-chariot, and placed his wives on the filaments, and his friends on the leaves, and preceded by Chaṇḍasinha and the others, set out through the air to conquer his enemies. And when he had completed half his journey, he came to the palace of Dhanavatí which was called Mátangapura, and he stayed there that day, and she did the honours of the house to him. And while he was there, he sent an ambassador to challenge to the combat the Vidyádhara princes Gaurímuṇḍa and Mánasavega.
The next day he deposited his wives in Mátangapura, and went with the Vidyádhara kings to Govindakúṭa. There Gaurímuṇḍa and Mánasavega came out to fight with them, and Chaṇḍasinha and his colleagues met them face to face. When the battle began, brave warriors fell like trees marked out for the axe, and torrents of blood flowed on the mountain Govindakúṭa. The combat, eager to devour the lives of heroes, yawned like a demon of destruction, with tongues in the form of flexible swords greedily licking up blood.[12] That great feast of slaughter, terrible with the rhythmic clapping of hands on the part of Vetálas drunk with blood and flesh, and covered with palpitating corpses for dancers, gave great delight to the demons.
Then Mánasavega met Naraváhanadatta face to face in the conflict, and the prince himself rushed on him in wrath. And having rushed on him, that emperor seized the villain by the hair, and at once cut off his head with his sword. When Gaurímuṇḍa saw that, he too sprang forward in a fury, and Naraváhanadatta dragged him along by the hair, for the power of his science left him as soon as he saw the prince, and flung him on the ground, and seizing his legs whirled him round in the air, and dashed him to pieces on a rock. In this way he slew Gaurímuṇḍa and Mánasavega; and the rest of their army, being terrified,[13] took to flight. And a rain of flowers fell into the lap of that emperor, and all the gods in heaven exclaimed, “Bravo! Bravo!” Then Naraváhanadatta, with all those kings that followed him, entered the palace of Gaurímuṇḍa; and immediately the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, who were connected with Gaurímuṇḍa’s party, came and submitted humbly to his sway.
Then Dhanavatí came up to that sovereign in the midst of the rejoicings on account of his having taken possession of his kingdom after slaying all his enemies, and said to him, “My liege, Gaurímuṇḍa has left a daughter named Ihátmatiká, the belle of the three worlds; you should marry that maiden.” When she said this to the king, he immediately sent for the girl, and married her, and passed the day very happily in her society.
The next morning he sent Vegavatí and Prabhávatí, and had Madanamanchuká brought by them from the town of Mánasavega. When brought, she looked upon that hero in his prosperity, who had destroyed the darkness of his enemies, with face expanded and wet with tears of joy; and at the end of her night of separation she enjoyed indescribable happiness, like a lotus-bed, the open flowers of which are wet with dew. Then he bestowed on her all the sciences, and having pined for her long, he exulted in the society of his beloved, who had thus in a moment attained the rank of a Vidyádharí. And in the garden of Gaurímuṇḍa’s city he spent those days with his wives in the joys of a banquet. And then he sent Prabhávatí, and had Bhagírathayaśas also brought there, and bestowed on her the sciences.
And one day, as the emperor was sitting in his hall of audience, two Vidyádharas came and said to him with due respect, “Your majesty, we went hence, by the orders of Dhanavatí, to the northern division of the land of the Vidyádharas, to find out the movements of Mandaradeva. And there we, being ourselves invisible, saw that king of the Vidyádharas in his hall of audience, and he happened to be saying with regard to your Highness, ‘I hear, that Naraváhanadatta has obtained the sovereignty over the Vidyádharas, and has slain Gaurímuṇḍa and the rest of his opponents; so it will not do for me to overlook that enemy; on the contrary, I must nip him in the bud.’ When we heard that speech of his, we came here to tell you.”
When the assembly of Naraváhanadatta’s partizans heard this from the spies, they were all beside themselves with anger, and appeared like a lotus-bed smitten by the wind. The arms of Chitrángada, frequently waved and extended, seemed with the tinkling of their bracelets to be demanding the signal for combat. The necklace of Amitagati, rising up on his breast, as he sighed with anger, seemed to say again and again, “Rouse thyself, rouse thyself, hero.” Pingalagándhára, striking the ground with his hand so that it resounded, seemed to be going through a prelude introductory to the crushing of his enemies. A frown took its seat upon the face of Váyupatha, looking like a bow strung by Fate for the destruction of his foes. Chaṇḍasinha, angrily pressing one hand against the other, seemed to say, “Even thus will I pulverize my enemies.” The arm of Ságaradatta, struck by his hand, produced a sound that rang through the air, and seemed to challenge that foe. But Naraváhanadatta, though angry, was no whit disturbed; for imperturbability is the characteristic sign of the greatness of great ones.
Then he resolved to march forth to conquer his enemy, after obtaining the jewels essential to an emperor of the Vidyádharas. So the emperor mounted a chariot, with his wives and his ministers, and set out from that Govindakúṭa. And all his partizans, the kings of the Gandharvas and the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, accompanied by their armies, marched along with him, encircling him, as the planets do the moon. Then Naraváhanadatta reached the Himálayas, preceded by Dhanavatí, and found there a large lake. With its white lotuses like lofty umbrellas and its soaring swans like waving chowries, it seemed to have brought a present fit for a sovereign. With its lofty waves flung up towards him like beckoning hands at no great distance, it seemed to summon him again and again to take the bath which should ensure him supreme sovereignty. Then Váyupatha said to the king, “My emperor, you must go down and bathe in this lake;” so he went down to bathe in it. And a heavenly voice said, “None but an emperor can ever succeed in bathing in this lake, so now you may consider the imperial dignity secured to you.”